


i love you (i’m glad i exist.)

by thestarsspokehername



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alien apocalypse - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst, Fluff, Greek Gods & Goddesses AU, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Major Character Death in chapter 5, OiHina Week, OiHina Week 2020, Unrequited Love, angel!oikawa, beach, demon!hinata, proposal, title is from “The Orange” by Wendy Cope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:48:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsspokehername/pseuds/thestarsspokehername
Summary: a compilation of seven OiHina one shots for OiHina Week 2020.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 7
Kudos: 132





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> day 1; College AU

Oikawa Tooru’s first thought when he saw Hinata Shouyou was that the sun itself was sitting in front of him.

The man was  _ bright.  _ Not in just looks and clothing, but also in personality and charm. His laugh was loud and contagious enough to light up an entire room (which would be good if they weren’t in a library), he was extremely talkative (which would be good if they didn’t get off track every three seconds), and his smile could make anyone feel like they were on cloud nine just by looking at it (which would be good if it wasn’t for Oikawa trying to focus).

How he was supposed to get through this tutoring session was beyond him.

“Like this, Oikawa-san?”

He snapped himself from his daze as Hinata leaned over, pushing his work in front of him. He caught the faintest scent of sea breeze as the man stared at him, eyes expectant and so bright. Oikawa quickly turned his attention to the work, clearing his throat. He adjusted his glasses and began to read.

It wasn’t long before he caught a mistake and quickly placed the paper in front of Hinata. This time, he was the one leaning in, placing his finger over the problem.

“Right here. Either you didn’t read the full passage, or looked at the lab incorrectly. Look at the atomic number for the elements and the atomic weight.”

Hinata stared at him for a long moment before turning his attention back to the passage. After another quick read through and a long look at the periodic table, it dawned on him and he let out a low groan. He quickly scribbled out the previous answer and wrote in a new one- the correct one. Oikawa let loose a hum of approval.

“There you go.”

“That was so obvious! I feel so dumb.”

The man deflated in his chair with a whine and the brunet offered a small smile. He patted his arm and that seemed to perk him right back up. He let out another small laugh and gave Oikawa one of his blinding smiles.

“But luckily, I found you!”

“Uh-huh, yeah.”

He turned his attention away from the smile almost too quickly. His heart was pounding in his chest and the blood rushing through his ears was so loud that he almost couldn't hear himself think. Possibly the worst part of it was how oblivious Hinata was to the effect he had on his tutor. Oikawa was dying in the seat right beside him and Hinata was all smiles and cheer. 

He read over the rest of the work and let loose a small hum of approval before sliding it back in front of Hinata.

“That was the only one! You’re getting pretty good at this.”

“Well, it's all thanks to you!”

That comment tickled Oikawa’s ego in all the right spots. He puffed out his chest and crossed his arms over it, flashing one of his signature grins.

“You flatter me.~ But you'll be all set for your tests and homeworks in the near future, I’m pretty sure. Just remember to continue practicing your study habits and you’ll be good!”

What happened after was off, to say the least.

Hinata’s shoulders slumped and he stared at Oikawa with an expression that matched one of a kicked puppy. His eyes were blown wide and his cheeks puffed out in a pout, his lower lip jutting out as well. Under any other circumstance, it would’ve been adorable and probably too big a blow for his heart to take. But this pout was directed right at him and sent him into a momentary panic.

_ ‘Why is he pouting at me? Oh my god, did I say something wrong? What if he needs more help and I’m blowing him off?’  _

His hand drifted to his bad knee and gave it an unconscious rub. A nasty habit that he had picked up since his highschool years, it wouldn’t be unusual for him to rub his pants until the fabric has rubbed up against his skin enough to turn it red. He did it sparsely now in college, his mind too muddled with assignments and tutoring to think about all the stress he was under, but his mind was too clear as he watched Hinata.

The man let out a small sigh a few moments later, eyes falling away from Oikawa and to his paper.

“It's just…”

Oikawa hung onto his every word. Hinata looked back up, but his pout had disappeared. A small, bashful smile had taken its place and his hand rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, it’s just I really liked spending time with you! And if I’m getting better, that means our tutoring sessions will have to end...so, I guess I’m just a little bit sad?”

That was the finishing blow. Oikawa slammed his head into his hands and let loose a loud groan (or as loud as he could be in the library). A small squawk of his name came from beside him, but he took his time to collect his racing heart and thoughts. Once he was sure he’d be able to compile an actual sentence, he looked back up at Hinata with a smile. He ignored the burning on his cheeks from where his hands had met the skin and grabbed his pencil and a piece of paper. 

Oikawa scribbled a set of numbers on the piece of paper before handing it over to him.

“Here. Text me there instead of the student emails from now on. God, you couldn’t have just asked that from the beginning?”

Hinata’s cheeks turned as red as his hair and he tried to blubber out an answer, but Oikawa was having none of it. A wave of confidence had swept him up and he intended to ride it with his ego as shotgun as far as he could. He picked up the piece of paper and slipped it right into Hinata’s open hand. The skin there was warm to the touch and his fingers were slightly bigger than Oikawa’s own, yet they seemed to dance around his as he pulled away. 

“Now, as much as I hate to kick you out, I do have another appointment. And you have a class! So, shoo, shoo!”

Playfully smacking Hinata’s arm seemed to do the trick and he scrambled to grab and shove his stuff into his bag. The paper with Oikawa’’s number was the only thing placed away gently, folded neatly into a square and placed into his pocket. Once he was fully standing he gave a half bow to the older boy.

“T-thank you, Oikawa-san! I’ll send you a text, definitely!”

And then he was off, disappearing behind a row of books. Oikawa watched until he couldn’t see any orange hair through the cracks and the shelves and only when he was sure he was alone in the study area did he allow everything to hit him. He slumped low into his chair and covered his face with his hands. His cheeks were burning again, but this time it wasn’t from anything physical. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly pulled it out. There were a few messages from his friends and some emails from who he was tutoring, but the newest message was from an unknown sender. His heart dropped right to his stomach- there was no way Hinata was already texting him. He should be hurrying to class right now. There’d be no time to stop and message his number.

His body didn’t listen to any of his mind's rationalities and quickly typed in his password. Opening the message only caused his heart to start a tornado in his stomach, mixing with the swarm of butterflies that called it their home. 

The message was a blurry picture of Hinata running, the library in the background. There was a smile on his pink face and the message below was a jumbled mess of letters. It took him a minute, but he eventually figured out what the message was supposed to be;  _ Wanted to send a message before I forgot! We should get lunch tomorrow! _

Just as he was finishing reading the last word, another message came through. This one was much clearer and read;  _ And don’t say you have tutoring! I know you’re free! _

As if Oikawa would ever blow off Hinata Shouyou for lunch. Or anything. He replied with a quick set of emoji’s before clicking off his phone and laying his head back to stare up at the lights on the ceiling. A small smile took over his face and quickly turned into a huge grin. His hand relaxed against his knee as he straightened up and sighed happily.

A date with the sun itself was definitely something he could get used to. 


	2. ii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 2; Mythology AU

Staring at the human before him, the god knew instantly;  _ this one will be mine. _

His hair burned as red as the fire from  Hephaestus’ forges and his eyes reflected everything Oikawa had ever searched for. The white silk of the ceremonial tunic hung loosely off his body and gave a delicious view of his sculpted chest. An orange sash wrapped around his waist and golden pins held the clothes all in place. It was as if one of the statues in his garden had sprung to life- not that he’d complain, they were works of art from the muses themselves- but this man was very much human.

Humanity was a realm he dabbled in rarely. They were greedy, selfish, impure; they were undeserving of his beauty. When he did manage to find a human that was untainted by the rest of his kind’s filth, he treated them royally. Hero’s blessed in his name. King’s that rose to power using whispers of his name. Every hundred or so years, one of the greats would rise from his blessing. But even they would eventually become tainted- be it by other gods or other humans, they all became undeserving of his blessing.

Except this one.

Hinata Shouyou, a man he had been watching since early adulthood, a hero in his own right. A hero that had pulled off numerous feats that attracted the attention of numerous gods. He had watched as they offered the hero gifts, blessings, offers that any human would kill for. And yet, he turned them all down with the promise of him waiting for a certain being to appear. When every god had returned to their home defeated, Oikawa considered his interest piqued and decided it was his turn. It was time to see how this human had captured the attention of every god and why he had turned them all down with his own eyes.

And now, as he appeared before him for the first time, he understood.

“You,” he murmured, “are  _ perfect.” _

High praise coming from the god of beauty. His fingers danced across the man’s skin, traveling from the shell of his ear to the bottom of his jaw. They traced the shapes of his lips and only pulled away as the man released a shaky breath.

“You know who I am, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

His voice was deep and the whisper hung in the air between him. Oikawa’s fingers paused from where they were on his forearm, eyes flickering back up to meet his. The pink in his cheeks was a nice touch, like the color of the roses in his garden. The back of his free hand brushed against them and the man leaned into the touch with another shaky sigh.

“I’ve felt your presence for most of my adult life. You have been...watching me, have you not?”

He was bold to make such an accusation, even if it was true. His lips quirked upwards; he could see how every god could become infatuated with him.

“You are correct. You are a hero for the ages; a hero I wish to cultivate in my name. In my image.”

Oikawa cooed, both of his hands coming up once more to cup his face. Hinata melted against his touch and stared with wide eyes. He was hanging onto every word Oikawa said, every movement he made, every touch that brushed against his skin and set it alight. 

“You have turned down all before me who have made this offer. I wonder; will I be any different?”

He leaned in, his fingertips brushing against his lower lips. He was far too close for either of their own goods. He could feel the man’s breath ghosting over his own lips and could notice even the smallest specks of gold that flickered with the light in his eyes. The world stilled around them for just a moment and Oikawa hoped the others were watching. He hoped they were watching his hero crumble under his touch, melt under his words, and lean in for more. Selfishly, he hoped they were listening to hear the undoubtable answer to his question.

“I was the being you have been waiting for, correct? You were waiting for me to appear.”

A shaky sigh was all it took to confirm his answer and Oikawa chucked softly.

“Be mine, hero. A hero in the name of Aphrodite...a man who will know love in its most primal form.”

There were no words to formulate an answer. There were no sounds the man could have made or signs he could have shown. Yet, they both knew the answer in their hearts as their lips met. The man’s lips were as soft as silk and tasted as delicious as they looked. There would be no doubt in anyone's mind after this; this man was not just a child of Aphrodite, or a hero blessed with his beauty. He was someone directly sculpted by Aphrodite to be perfection itself; someone Aphrodite would selfishly hold onto as long as his influence allowed.

Hinata Shouyou was perfect. He was perfect and the god of love and beauty would protect that perfection. Never would he have to worry about becoming tainted like the rest of his species or succumbing to the many faults others were born of.

And as they stole away to the land Oikawa claimed as his own, he knew that no human would ever compare to Hinata Shouyou. 


	3. iii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3; Beach

The feeling of warm sand between his toes was one that Shouyou would never forget.

It wasn’t always kind- it would dig itself in and trap Shouyou’s feet in the ground. It forced him to walk again when he was so used to flying in Japan, and it never once weakened as he was learning his way around it. But then there were times when the sand was comforting and grounding, like now. It curled around his toes and tickled the skin between them and he wiggled his own deeper. Beside him, a pair of flip flops formed a barrier between another’s toes and the ground.

He looked up at the one next to him and smiled.

“The sand doesn’t bite, y’know.”

“Yes, but the creatures in it do, Sho! And besides, it made my feet red last time.”

Tooru huffed, giving a kick to the sand as if it would prove his point. All it succeeded in doing was giving the sand a way to slip in under his flip flops. Shouyou giggled as he tried his best to kick it out, only collapsing into the beach chair behind him in defeat a moment later. The beach behind him was scattered with other beach chairs and towels, dug into and covered in the same sand. None were too close to them, mostly because none dared.

Shouyou turned back around to face the beach volleyball court in front of him.

The sand was not kind, but there were a few who still managed to conquer it. Heitor flew above the net, kicking up sand and shells and pebbles around him, and slammed the ball into the other side of the court. The whistle blew as the ball embedded itself in the ground and the other team slumped to their knees, defeated.

Shouyou cheered his friends' name from the sidelines, giving a wild wave when they locked eyes. He smiled widely from the court before turning and jogging to the opposite side, scooping Nice and his children into a huge hug. His fifth consecutive win, the announcer was saying, but it was muffled by two arms being draped over his shoulders.

“Maybe we should play some while we’re here?”

“I thought we were here on “vacation”.~”

Shouyou teased with air quotes. The brunet buried his face in his hair and groaned as a response, but the ginger merely laughed at his reaction. 

“I never said  _ vacation,  _ I said anniversary. There is a difference.”

“Potato, potato.”

He dismissed it with a wave and leaned into the other’s touch, watching Heitor and his teammate move onto another court. Most of the crowd began to travel with them, some taking their chairs and towels, others simply taking themselves. When most of the crowd had dissipated, he turned and Tooru’s lips were waiting right there for him. Three years of kissing and Shouyou had never once tired of his lips.

“If you wanna play, we can come back later when the tournament is finished.”

He mumbles in between the kisses, cut off every other word as Tooru needily presses more to his lips.After another few seconds of kissing, Shouyou reared his head far enough away so he’d be able to get a full sentence in. His response was, of course, another whine, but he needed Tooru to listen to him.

“But I didn’t fly us out here just for volleyball, y’know?”

“You didn’t? Chibi-chan, are you feeling okay?”

A hand was pressed to his forehead and was quickly swatted away. Tooru’s lips pressed into a thin line as he watched the back of his lover's head, his hand falling back to rest on his waist. Shouyou without volleyball was like the Earth without the sun, red without blue, milk bread without any of the sweetness. It was unthinkable and worrying.

“I flew us out here because this was where we first really got to know each other, y’know?”

Shouyou turned and flashed a familiar smile. Something about it made Tooru’s gut clench and his breath hitch. If the ginger noticed, he said nothing of it and turned in Tooru’s arms. They were facing one another now and Shouyou slinked his arms around his neck, staring deep into his eyes. Something swam there, something deep and lurking and it was something Tooru couldn't quite make out.

“Because, if you think about it, I only knew you as this whimsical “Great King” in my head before then. But playing with you for those nights really made that image melt away, and I’m glad it did. It let me see you for how you really are; someone as obsessed with volleyball as I am. Someone driven by his passion and who radiated an air of confidence, but not all the time.”

Shouyou let out a soft laugh and it sounded like bells. Tooru had heard of people saying the world would melt away in moments where it was just them and the person they loved the most, but he didn’t really believe it until now. It felt like it was just them holding each other, surrounded by nothing but empty beach chairs and the hot sand. He hung onto every word Shouyou said. Physically, he also hung onto him. His arms wrapped tightly around his waist and kept him as close as he could muster.

Shouyou kept talking.

“You have flaws. You’re so driven that you get tunnel vision. You put so much pressure on yourself until you break. You feel that, since you never got to take on the country in high school, that you now have to take on the world to prove yourself-”

“Ouch, Chibi-chan.”

“- _ but  _ your flaws make you human. And I love them just as much as I love the rest of you.”

Shouyou removed one of his arms to gesture to the beach around them. Tooru looked around with a raised brow, trying to find what he was gesturing at, and Shouyou used it as the perfect excuse to slip to the ground. He dug one of his knees into the sand and yanked free a tiny box, waiting until Tooru looked back at him. He didn’t cover his mouth in shock, nor did he start blubbering and crying like Shouyou would have expected. Yet, there was no fear or doubt in his heart. He knew the answer he would receive after this.

“It started on this beach years ago and it’s been building up to now. I couldn’t think of a better way to ask for a new start yet again- not as rivals, not as boyfriends, but as husbands. Oikawa Tooru, would you-”

As much as Tooru had mellowed out of his eccentric habits since high school, there was no way he wasn’t going to leap at Shouyou. They both tumbled backwards into the sand, Tooru landing on top of him. He shook his head to get rid of some of the sand and stared at him with a huge grin. One of his hands came and gripped Shouyou’s, and they held the tiny box in between them.

“The answer is, of course, yes!”

A wet laugh before he began peppering kisses all over the ginger’s face. Shouyou made a mental note to get back at him for getting sand in his hair later and reveled in the kisses. The ring would not make its appearance yet, but in due time, it would find its place snug on Oikawa’s finger during periods of calm and fastened around his neck in their games. A new name would don his back in the years following them, but that time was not now.

For now, they laid on the hot sand with lips locked and a new beginning between their fingers. 


	4. iv.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4; Apocalypse

The world did not end with a bang. Instead, it ended with a mechanical whirring overhead that was so loud, it made Hinata Shouyou cover his ears, lest he go deaf.

Hinata, as wondrous as he could be at times, had never believed in aliens. He had believed in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, even mermaids, for a brief time. But aliens never grasped his attention or his belief, which is why when he looked into the sky, they were the last thing he thought of. 

The ships were unlike any he’d ever seen before. They didn’t resemble a plane or helicopter, nor a U.F.O from the sci-fi movies. They reminded him of Legos; long and rectangular, with circular indents on the bottom and silver lines down the black sides. They stayed in groups of threes, hovering closely beside the others, and each one was easily as long as a football field. The circular indents glowed a bright yellow and also seemed to be where the whirring was coming from.

Despite being unlike anything he’d ever seen before, Hinata did his best to rationalize the situation. The ships were spread out in the sky into the far distance and other people were pointing up at them as well, so he wasn’t hallucinating. They bore no flags or other international symbols, and Japan had no major world conflicts at the moment, so he ruled out foreign invasion as well. Could it be for a movie? Could he be dreaming?

While he did his best to figure them out, something began to exit the circular indents on the bottom. Long pieces of silver fell several yards from the ship. The yellow light followed the poles downwards and concentrated right at the ends in several large glowing balls. The people around him took several feet back at this development, loud cries and murmurs beginning to come from around him. Then, the light started to get brighter...and  _ bigger _ .

He realized too late that it was heading right towards him.

It would have hit him too, but something wrapped around his wrist and yanked him out of the way. The light missed him by a hair and slammed into a building behind him. He whirled his head around at the sound, expecting to see a jumbled mix of bricks or a raging fire, but what he saw made his blood run cold. Or, to be more precise, it was what he  _ didn’t  _ see.

The house that had been right behind him was gone. Not a mess of bricks, nor flames, just gone. The patch of land that it had been resting on was bare as if nothing had been built on it to begin with. Other people began to notice this as well and that was when the panic began.

Screams pierced the air left and right. With the screams, more flashes of light rained down. He watched in horror as the beams hit them and their skin turned a violent yellow. As soon as he blinked, they were gone. At this point, fear had gripped his body so hard that there was no hope for him to move. Even as he turned to stare at yet another beam of light heading towards him and his brain screamed to  _ move, move and get out of the way or you’ll die,  _ he couldn’t.

But whatever had grabbed him could. It forcefully tugged him out of the way again but this time, kept moving. Hinata watched behind them in horror as more people were zapped and killed as they ran, his feet still dragging against the ground. The person dragging him must’ve realized he was dead weight like this and paused in their escape. Hinata turned slowly to look at his savior and when he did, it managed to warm his cold blood just enough so he could speak.

“Oikawa…?”

The setter whirled around to look back at him with wide eyes. Before he could ask any more questions, the older boy slammed his hand over his mouth and dragged him into an alley. He kept his thumb hovered above Hinata’s nose so that he could still breathe, but kept his cheeks squished so he couldn’t speak. That didn’t stop him from squirming, however. Oikawa pressed his back to the wall of the alley and lowered his mouth so it was right beside his ear.

“Quit moving,” he hissed lowly, causing him to instantly pause. “I think...I think these things f-focus on sound. They  _ only  _ missed you because I grabbed you. Don’t give them another chance.”

After that, a long silence enveloped them. The only thing Hinata could hear was the erratic beating of his own heart, Oikawa’s labored breathing, and the horrible whirring overhead. Every so often, a scream would pierce the air. He would flinch and Oikawa’s hand would tighten over his mouth. After so many, he did his best to start tuning them out. He lost count of how long they stood there; seconds, minutes, maybe even hours. All he knew is that when he tuned back in, all noise had ceased. There was no screaming, no whirring, even his heartbeat had settled down.

Oikawa’s hand loosened over his mouth but didn’t completely leave. He sucked in a shaky breath of air and did his best to keep his sobs quiet when he exhaled. Tears began to stream down his face and he did his best to pace his breathing.

“I-I have to go home,” he rasped, voice still a whisper. “K-Karasuno...my mom...Natsu-!”

“I know.”

It was only then that he realized Oikawa’s hand was trembling. 

He slowly turned to look up at the older boy. Gone was the “Great King” that terrified him in matches, now replaced by a trembling, terrified teen. Silent tears streamed down his face as he kept his gaze trained on the entrance to the alley. Of course, Oikawa had people he was worrying over to. Seijoh, Iwaizumi, whatever family he had. He probably wanted to bolt out of that alley to check up on them as much as Hinata did, but he had glued himself to that spot and kept both of them alive.

He turned to look down at Hinata and gave him his best reassuring smile which, with the situation, wasn’t very reassuring.   
  


“W-we’ll find them, but we have to play this smart, okay? I’m...I’m sure they’re okay.”

They both knew they most likely weren’t, but the false hope was needed to get their bodies moving again. Slowly, Oikawa’s hand fell away from his mouth and Hinata stepped away. He turned to face the exit and then looked down at where Oikawa’s hand had appeared in front of him. It was still trembling, but when he grasped it, it squeezed him. Their eyes met for only a second before they both turned back to the entrance.

Together, they stepped out into a silent new world. 


	5. v.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 5; Hanahaki AU
> 
> TW; blood, vomit, unrequited love, alcohol, character death

The first time he coughed up petals was in the middle of a match.

The universe really hated him, he had thought. To cough up rose petals and blood in the middle of a match? To collapse to the ground and have to be physically carried off the court? To be admitted to the hospital while reporters crowded his car and asked him,  _ Oikawa, how will this affect your career? Oikawa, who are you coughing these flowers about? Oikawa, will you get the surgery?  _ He passed out to the sound of flashing cameras and the taste of blood welling in his throat.

He woke up to his sister beside his bed. Her arms were shaking as she clasped her hands over her mouth and whispered prayers into them. She didn’t seem to notice he was awake, not until the doctor came in. He was a pudgy, dark-skinned man with a white lab coat that hung off his shoulders and a metal stethoscope around his neck. 

“Mr.Oikawa, you’re awake.”

“Mm-mmrph!”

He tried to greet the doctor back, only to panic when he realized he couldn’t  _ speak.  _ The panic swelled in him instantly and drowned any sanity he could’ve held onto. He threw his head to the side at his sister and his hands scrambled to his face and into his mouth, tugging desperately at whatever  _ thing  _ was stuck there.

“Tooru! Tooru, calm down!”

The doctor and his sister grabbed his arms and held them down to the bed. She had tears streaming down her face as she stared at him with a pleading look, and that was the only reason he stopped. His breathing was labored and his chest rose and fell quickly. He tore his gaze away from his sister and aimed it towards the doctor, steeling it as if to demand an explanation. Luckily, the doctor took the hint and pulled a chair beside his bedside.

“We had to place a tube down your throat to drain out the blood. If we hadn’t, you could've drowned. We just want to make sure you’re stable, and then, we’ll take it out,” he explained, folding his hands in his lap, fiddling with themselves as a look that filled Tooru with dread overtook his face. “Now, allow me to explain your diagnosis.”

Tooru wasn’t an idiot- he knew it from the minute he coughed up the petals. Hanahaki Disease, the doctors had named it all those years ago. A disease where the brain became so stressed from repressed emotions, it began to shut down the body. This stress would cause flower-like growths to sprout up all throughout the body, slowly shutting down the major organs. It also caused dead cells to be coughed up. These cells, which resembled flower petals, were almost identical to actual petals. It was only their biological makeup that allowed the difference to come to light.

As soon as the explanation had finished, Tooru understood what the look in his doctor’s eyes was for.

“Mr. Oikawa, Hanahaki disease is the result of emotional stress on the brain. While there could be several other factors, the most common is unrequited love. So, as your doctor, I must ask; is there someone you love?”

The room grew silent. The beeping of his heart monitor began to increase, putting his nerves and anxiety on display for them both to see. After another tense moment of non-stop beeping, Tooru slowly shook his head.

His sister let out a choked sob and cupped his hand in her own. His doctor risked a glance at the heart monitor before looking back at him.

“Are you sure, Mr. Oikawa? This is important for your treatment.”

Another head shake, this one more insistent than the last. His doctor sighed and stood. He grabbed a clipboard from the end of his bed and returned to the seat, flipping through the first few pages to settle on one in the middle.

“You have a few options for treatment. Now, if you do somehow discover this is caused by unrequited love, the first option we explore is confession. Accepting your feelings would cause the symptoms to completely disappear in a few days, while rejection could amplify them. If a rejection were to occur, or you refuse confession, surgery is the next step.”

He flips through a few more pages and hands the clipboard to Tooru. He weakly grapes it in his hands and stares at the sheet of paper. It details different diagrams explaining the procedure with paragraphs of text on the side explaining symptoms, the risks it carries, and more.

“Now, surgery carries its own risks. Surgery can completely remove the growths from your body, as well as the flower-like cells. For a man such as yourself, in shape and with no pre-existing health conditions, the fatality risk is also extremely low. However, surgery will also trick the brain into a so-called “fake” acceptance. The brain registers it as a rejection, but the growths are no longer there. The result is each extreme “canceling” one another out. This means you forget any love you have felt towards this person, be it romantic or platonic...now, if your hanahaki is the result of other stress, the options become more limited…”

Tooru didn’t listen past that part. There was no need to; he knew what his Hanahaki was caused by. Or rather, who it was caused by. But he pretended to listen to the rest of the doctor's explanation. He pretended to wish his sister farewell and promise her that if he got worse, she could catch the next plane over. He pretended to sleep well that night, and he pretended that he didn’t know that the sight of the orange hair on the opposing team’s libero had been the key trigger to his hanahaki. 

___

Weeks passed without a major instance. There were some skirmishes; coughing up blood right in the morning, stuffing petals in his pocket to hide them from his teammates, avoiding the media like the plague. All things that he could deal with and that didn’t require him to go to the hospital. He was glad, too; the last place he wanted to be was confined to that bed again, with a tube shoved down his throat and a doctor explaining risks he already knew.

Everything was fine until he went to visit Iwa-chan.

His week off work was easily approved and, before he knew it, he was in sunny California. Iwaizumi and his college roommates had spotted him from all the way across the LAX. For once, Iwaizumi actually looked happy to see him. Until he commented as much and received a smack on the head. A loud whine had rung free in the airport and Iwaizumi’s promise of more if he didn’t shut up stuck with him all day.

Even with his best friend's promise, he knew he didn’t mean it. That much was clear in the way that he stuck by Tooru like a magnet as they drove all over the city. They hit popular restaurants, museums, landmarks, parks, and more. He even got to meet a few young fans. Iwaizumi held back his comments until the children were out of sight before grumbling about how “stupid Shittykawa never changes”. Tooru hadn’t even said anything in reply, but apparently, that also warranted a smack.

They ended the night in a little Brazilian restaurant near their dorms, clinking glasses together and sharing stories of their childhood with their new friends. TV’s buzzed with excited and fast-paced Portuguese in the background and after one too many beers, Oikawa was half tuned into the conversation at hand and half tuned into the TVs. Most were news stations, some were weird drama’s that he immediately cringed away from. Only one caught his interest. It showcased a beach volleyball court with two reporters in a small box on the bottom left. The referee stood beside the net and waved to both sides of the court. Four people began to cross over the sand, two from each side.

Just watching them made him think of Brazil. 

It made him think of the cool nights and the hot sand, of the different foods and drinks and experiences he had, of a certain ginger who had grown up to be far more than anyone had ever expected him to be. But that thought brought more than just a warm, fuzzy feeling in his gut; it brought a sharp, stabbing pain. 

Quickly, he raised his glass to his lips and began to chug.

The world around him grew quiet as alcohol buzzed through his veins and lessened the pain. The warmth that followed the buzzing was enough to completely wash away the pain, and he was grateful. A small smile tugged on his lips; the universe must really hate him, but he had seen the universe and given it the biggest finger in the world.

“Is that Shouyou?”

The pain in his gut hit him so hard that he nearly doubled over, slamming his glass back onto the table. The three other men jumped and whirled back to face him. Iwaizumi’s default expression was a scowl with furrowed brows, but it instantly vaporized when he locked eyes with Oikawa’s cup.

The setter was scared to look down. He was scared to see what could make his best friend do such a 180 like that. Mostly, he was scared to see what he knew was going to be there. Blood and petals, dancing around the rim, maybe some had fallen into the cup itself. Further proof of his condition, of his horrible reality.

But he did anyway.

Blood was around the rim in the shape of a lip mark and the dark yellow liquid was now tinted red. Petals floated in the drink and some were scattered around the edges of the table. The sight of it only made the pain in his gut worse and he quickly stood. He barely had time to register Iwaizumi calling his name before he rushed towards the bathrooms. He didn’t stop for anything, not the frightened workers, not the other patrons, not even the door. He slammed into it with all the power he had and was lucky to make it to the toilet before he retched. 

Blood and petals landed in the water below as he curled up against the cold tile floor. It stopped after a few seconds, but it wasn’t long before another wave hit him and he was repeating the step all over again. His head throbbed and the metallic taste in his mouth lingered everywhere. It was under his tongue, in the cracks of his teeth, down his throat, and he hated it. He hated the throbbing in his head. He hated curling up on a cold tile floor, next to a disgusting toilet, just so he could try and feel better later.

Tooru must’ve been in there for some time because a series of hurried knocking came after he finally got more than a minute to breathe.

“Who is it?”

He slurred out, cringing at how hoarse his voice sounded.

“It’s me,” Iwaizumi’s voice came through the door, followed by a small pause. “Can I come in?”

“...yeah.”

The door slipped open and Iwaizumi slipped in, closing and locking it behind him. Tooru watched him as he crossed the bathroom and squatted down in front of him. His eyes analyzed Tooru like Tooru had done so many times to him in the past. He knew he couldn’t hide. Even if some small part of him hoped that Iwaizumi would think it was because of the alcohol, he knew Iwaizumi was smarter than that.

“Who is it, Oikawa?”

“You...you already know.”

He whispered, pulling his head back slightly from the toilet. Something flashed in Iwaizumi’s eyes and then, he was murmuring the name that Tooru knew religiously.

“Shouyou.”

The pain immediately returned and he whirled back towards the toilet and dry heaved. Tears sprung to his eyes and fell into the bloody water beneath him, a choked sob leaving his mouth a moment later. From out of the corner of his eye, Iwaizumi hurriedly stood and disappeared out of his line of sight. He returned a few moments later with rough paper towels from the dispenser, holding them to Tooru’s mouth as they both carefully pulled him away.

Tooru whimpered against the scratchy paper towel and dabbed a corner against his eyes.

“Tooru, if you’re getting this sick at the mention of his name-”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” Iwaizumi cut him off sharply, narrowing his eyes. “You always push yourself to the extreme, and that’s not good for you in any way. I don’t know what your game is by dealing with your hanahaki like this, but you have two options; tell him or get the surgery.”

“No!”

Tooru finally cried out, staring up at his best friend. However he looked rendered Iwaizumi speechless and gave him a moment to think. The paper towels fell as he grabbed at his hair, another low sob escaping him.

“I-I can’t get the surgery. They...they said it’ll take away my emotions for him. Even the n-non romantic ones!”

“But they won’t take away the memories, Tooru!”

“So what?! What are memories without the feelings we get from them? How am I supposed to remember our bond if I can't remember the way his laugh made me feel like I was on cloud nine, or how h-his hands felt when he helped me up from the sand? What are memories without  _ that!? _ ”

Iwaizumi stared at him. Tooru’s lips quivered as he waited for a response. A smile, a frown, anything but the damn blank stare he wore. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, Iwaizumi did something Tooru had experienced only a few times in his life from him; he yanked Tooru in by the shoulders and hugged him.

If his body wasn’t so tired, he would’ve jolted from the shock. Instead, he melted into the touch and sobbed into his best friend’s shoulder. All the hurt he had been bundling up since Brazil, all the anguish and depression and love, he released it all onto Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

“I can’t d-do it, Iwa-chan. I c...can’t forget those things. It’s like if y-you take volleyball away from me, I j-just can’t live without it.”

He gasped out, fingers curling around Iwaizumi’s shirt and pulling harshly. The other boy responded by rubbing small circles on his back and a sigh.

“Tooru, if you don't do something...well, soon, you won’t be living at all. If you can’t get surgery, then confess. Who knows; maybe he’ll say yes.”

His sobs slowly dissolved into sniffles and he let Iwaizumi’s words sink into his bones. They warmed him in a way that the alcohol from before couldn’t. Shouyou never mentioned having a lover in Brazil, so maybe he did have a shot. Maybe he was worrying himself sick over nothing. But before he had a chance for a smile to appear, his best friend pulled back and forced Tooru to look him right in the eyes.

“But if for whatever reason he rejects you, you  _ are  _ getting that surgery. It’ll suck, but your life is more precious than a single emotion, got it?”

Tooru stared at him for a long moment before slowly nodding. Iwaizumi grunted and nodded back before standing, tugging Tooru to his feet with him. Encircling one arm around his best friend’s waist, the two left the bathroom.

___

The universe was crueler than Tooru could ever imagine.

Years passed from the night he made his promise to Hajime, and he was only getting worse. At the sight of a mere orange, he’d be hacking petals. His doctor and sister were pushing for him to get the surgery or to at least stop playing volleyball to put less strain on his body. Iwaizumi was putting increasing pressure on him to confess right away, especially with the new development of his Olympic team. He was pissed Tooru had decided to wait years as it was, he’d be damned if he waited for even a second more.

But he shut them all down. 

He wasn’t getting the surgery, he wasn’t quitting volleyball, and he definitely wasn’t confessing over a Facetime. He would confess when he knew the opportunity was ripe and ready to be plucked. It wasn’t on any of their birthdays, nor the major holidays. It wasn’t when he tuned into the Adlers v. Jackals match and nearly fainted on his living room floor. It was only when he received a call from his coach about the Olympics and then, only then, was he ready to pluck the fruit of opportunity.

And now, with a shaky hand, he knocked on Shouyou’s door. 

The Olympic Village was huge; a series of hotels for all the Olympians. Finding Shouyou’s room had been easy, getting there had been a doozy, and just standing there waiting made it feels like the whole building was going to collapse onto his shoulders.

The door opened a minute later and Shouyou stood there in all his glory.

He wore his Olympic jersey, the number 10 printed neatly in white on the front. It hugged the muscles for his arms beautifully, not to mention his chest. His hair was less spiky than when they had met years ago, but still looked as fluffy as the night he had brushed it in the sands. His tan was long gone, having been in Japan long enough for it to fade, but spots of darkened freckles popped up occasionally over his arms.

He was beautiful. 

His face lit up as soon as he saw Tooru and he flung himself at him. Tooru stumbled back into the hall as he caught the other man in his arms and laughed loudly.

“Oikawa-san! God, I didn’t think I’d see you until the match!”

“As if, Chibi-chan! You know I have to say hello to one of my favorite people.”

Shouyou laughed again and Tooru swore he heard an angel. But the warmth of his touch was gone far too soon, as the other man took his position back in front of him. His smile never wavered as he stared into his eyes. A lump began to form in his throat- literally or figuratively, he wasn’t sure. 

“Sho...can I tell you something?”

“Of course!”

This was it, the moment he had waited for. The fruit was ripe and juicy and ready to be put in his basket; all he had to do was grab it. All he had to do was say three little words and hopefully, all his problems would be gone. All the universe had to do was be kind for just a second.

“I-”

“Oikawa?”

But of course, the universe was not kind.

He turned around to find a familiar raven cocking an eyebrow at him. It was a mix of confusion and cockiness in those eyes that made Tooru want to cry. It was the way he cocked his brow that made Tooru want to beat the shit out of him. But still, he forced a playful smirk on his lips and pressed a hand to his hip.

“Ah, Tobio-chan! Long time no see.~”

Kageyama narrowed his eyes at him and quickly crossed the hall to Shouyou’s room. He held no hesitation in his actions, nor the awkward stiffness from years ago. He had grown up and that scared the hell out of Tooru. How confident he moved towards Shouyou meant something and the universe was kind enough to show him what just moments later when the setter leaned down and pecked the ginger’s lips.

He felt the world start closing in. His brain was going into overdrive as he watched Shouyou flush and playfully smack his chest. He laughed, and the angel he heard was now replaced with the mischievous cackling of a demon. This was wrong, everything was wrong. 

Kageyama was the one who turned back to him first.

“Sorry, but I’m stealing Shouyou away.”

“That’s rude!” Shouyou squawked, smacking his chest. “But...we did have plans to check out the courts. I’m really sorry, Oikawa-san! I’ll be back in a few hours if you want to talk then?”

“Y-yeah, that’s fine.”

He wheezed it out, but they didn’t hear him. They were too busy being in love and loving being in love. He stopped back shakily as Shouyou closed the door to his room and the pair began to walk down the hall. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire. The pain in his gut, his stomach, his liver, and kidneys; it felt like someone was tearing him apart from the inside. Blood leaked down his lips like a broken faucet and onto the nice carpet of the halls, staining them red.

He knew he shouldn’t look, but he did anyway.

And in his tunnel vision, he made out the name that resided on Shouyou’s back;  _ Kageyama.  _

The universe had hardly ever been kind to Oikawa Tooru, but it was kind enough to take him and let his suffering end there, on the stained carpet of an Olympic hotel, with the love of his life disappearing for the last time. 


	6. vi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6; Actors AU

“This worthless pride of mine…”

The air hung heavy between them. The man across from him furrowed his brows, but Oikawa couldn’t care less. There was a wicked grin spread across his lips and nothing in the world could’ve stopped what he said next.

“You better remember it well.”

The grin did not fade, even as the lights dimmed and the camera’s stopped rolling and Iris yelled from the director’s chair about “ _ a job well done! _ ”. Not even as Ushijima’s facade cracked and he let out a small laugh, giving him a thumbs up. It only faded when he turned to head back towards his chair and was, instead, met with a faceful of orange.

The tiny body collided with his and nearly sent them both toppling towards the ground. Had it not been for his arms wrapping around his body and studying them, they would’ve eaten the floor. He shivers at the thought; the last thing he needed was his face getting ruined, especially when he still had scenes to shoot. The last _ last  _ thing they needed was their star actor getting hurt, which would’ve set Iris off in a way nothing else could.

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to scold the other man. Not when he was staring up at him with those huge eyes, shining with emotion.

“That was awesome, Tooru! You need to teach me how to smile like that!”

“L-like what?!”

“All creepy and stuff!~”

“H-hey!”

Tooru’s face went as red as a strawberry and he pouted down at Shouyou. From behind the ginger, he could hear a snickering voice- no, several snickering voices. He looked up and squinted his eyes at the culprits; his fellow Seijoh third years. Iwaizumi was simply snickering, but Matsukawa and Hanamaki were going all out. They had their arms wrapped around one another, cooing and making kissy faces. If Tooru’s face wasn’t already scarlet then, it definitely was now. 

Meanwhile, Shouyou gave him a quizzical look. He followed his gaze and began to turn around to look where Tooru was looking but was quickly redirected to look at Iris’ chair. The brunet slung his arm over his shoulder and let out a shaky laugh.

“Y-yeah, I’ll definitely show you! Anything else you want to learn?”

“Well…”

As he began listing off the many things he'd like Tooru to teach him, the taller kept his eyes peeled. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were now behind them, so unless they started to heckle them, he was sure Shouyou wouldn’t see them. Most of the set staff were too busy preparing for the next scene or talking amongst themselves to even notice how they looked, but a few actors beside Iris weren’t.

Ushijima was too busy talking to her with a script in hand for either of them to notice them. Luckily for them, Tendou did enough for both of them.

He had his arms wrapped around himself and was making exasperated kissing faces with his eyes closed. The icing on the cake was how wide his eyes were as he stared at them, making sure everyone knew he was directing his motions at them. This, unfortunately, drew even more attention...which included Shouyou’s.

Tooru didn’t have the luxury to turn his fellow actor away before he noticed this time. Shouyou stared at Tendou for a long moment before slowly turning to look at Tooru, who was glaring daggers at the other man. Oh, if only looks could kill. The look quickly faded away as soon as he looked back down at Shouyou and offered a weak smile.

“U-uh-”

“He’s doing that because of us, isn't he?”

Tooru flinched and let out an innocent whistle. The flat tone of voice Shouyou held made him slowly drop his arm from his shoulders and caused his anxiety to start running haywire. Was he too touchy? Did Tendou make him uncomfortable? Did  _ he  _ make him uncomfortable? If the answer to that question was yes, Tooru would never forgive himself. 

He couldn’t even answer Shouyou’s question without stammering like a fool. But his actions were more than enough and he wasn’t sure if Shouyou’s sigh was a good thing or a bad thing. At least, until he felt the soft kiss against his cheek.

At that moment, Tooru became hyper-aware of everything. the corner of his eye, Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s jaws dropped. He saw Iwaizumi slip Kageyama some folded bills and he saw the set people quickly look away. He saw Tendou‘s arms fall, but what he saw was nothing compared to what he felt. Lips as soft as a cloud. Warmth like that of a fire, but without the risk of a burn. The stretch of a giddy smile appearing on his lips and the longing in his chest as the warmth and softness disappeared. 

Shouyou slipped from his arm and gave him a small smile.

“Let’s continue this over dinner sometime! Maybe somewhere with less prying eyes.~”   
  


He shot a pointed look at the other actors in the room before giving Tooru a wink and slipping out the door. The hyper-awareness faded as Shouyou disappeared and he brushed his fingers against the skin of his cheek. A smile still remained, but it was far tamer than the giddy stretch from seconds ago. He ignored the slaps on the back from his friends, or how Iris started calling for the next group of actors, or how the lights flickered back to life and cast a perfect spotlight on him.

All he could focus on was the door Shouyou had left from and the promise of more he had given him.


	7. vii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7; Angel and Demons AU

“Stupid!”

The tip of the golden sandal connected with the tiny pebble and sent it flying into the bushes ahead. They connected with yet another pebble a few feet ahead and didn’t stop until the dirt path had none left to offer. When that happened, the young boy paused and stared down at the path. There were no more rocks, but there were sticks. Seeing as they were the next best options, he began to kick them instead.

“Sit up straight! Don’t pull your feathers!” The boy mocked in a high pitched tone, his voice dropping to a low one a moment later. “No running! Spread your wings wide!”

As if to protest with him, his white wings shuddered and shrunk even further together. 

“I know!”

The boy exclaimed back at them, kicking the last of the sticks in half. The dirt path had trailed off into the unbeaten forest with grass tickling his ankles and roots catching on his feet. The sticks fallen here were too big to snap in one kick and the rocks would easily break one or all of his toes, so he resorted to screaming like a wild animal. It was the only other way he knew to release his frustrations. Curse words that would make his mother faint left his mouth and his hands flailed as if he was having a seizure, desperate to grab something but not at the same time.

It was a desperate ten-minute tantrum that left his voice hoarse and chapped lips, blurred vision and wobbling knees, shuddering wings and shaking shoulders. It left him to slide onto the forest floor and quietly sob, his anger having dissipated into sadness, with only himself as his witness.

Or so he thought.

The footsteps sounded like a deer. They were quiet and soft and danced around him like the animal was unsure of how to get around him. It wasn’t until a mop of orange hair knelt in front of him that he realized that the thing in front of him was the furthest thing from a deer. The boy looked younger than him and was amazingly short. Even kneeling on the forest floor with him, he still had to look up at him. The orange hair reminded him of the oranges that his mother used to peel for him as a child. He would always sneak off with the skin to go feed it to a strange animal outside the gates or bury it in the garden with hopes of sprouting an orange tree. 

The orange hair wasn’t the only thing interesting about him. His eyes were wide and studied the taller boy in a way that had him curling in on himself even before he saw the horns. They were so tiny he was able to bypass them at first, but there was no mistaking it; those two little black horns that curved upwards from the sides of the boy's hair, just poking out through the top, meant he was a demon. 

“Why are you crying?”

His voice was gentle, but it didn’t stop him from jumping back five feet. The angel unwrapped his wings protectively around himself as he stared the demon down, waiting for him to pounce on him and rip off his wings and boil them into a stew, or some other horrible concoction his mother had told him over the years. Even when the demon didn’t move, he kept his guard high.

“W-why do you wanna know?”

“So I can help?”

It came off like a question and he couldn’t help but laugh. A  _ demon _ , wanting to  _ help _ ? That was about as unlikely as hell freezing over or the sky turning yellow. 

“Your kind doesn’t know how to help. Your way of helping is like, torturing souls or something!”

“Nuh-uh!”

A tail as black as night lashed out from behind the demon, curling around his waist after a moment. A pout settled on the demon’s lips and he stood up to his full height...which wasn’t much, but he wasn’t going to comment on it.

“I don’t like to do that! It’s mean.”

“Liar! All demons like doing that stuff.”

“No!”

“Yeah!”

“No!”

“Yeah!”

The demons pout only got worse and the angel puffed out his chest in victory. He had won this battle, but the war was far from over. It wouldn’t be over until the demon was out of sight and out of mind. But his mind kept traveling back to his words. Help? How in the world could he help him? How dare he assume that he would  _ let  _ him help him? The thoughts wouldn’t leave his mind, even as he tried to push them away. So, he decided to humor them, give them the satisfaction of an answer, and then kick them out.

“Pray tell,  _ demon,  _ how would you help me?”

“I have a name, you know.”

The demon muttered before straightening up.

“Well...you could tell me why you’re crying! Maybe I could relate and help distract you from it, or something.”

“Relate?!”

The angel screeched, uncaring as the demon flinched away. Now  _ that  _ was an assumption he couldn’t just let go of.

“Your kind could never relate to me! You don’t know the struggles of not having any friends, of being the “bad” angel that all your parent's friends avoid! Are your parent's nobles? Do they expect a lot from you? Like-”

“Like telling you to sit up straight,” he interrupted, staring right into the other’s brown eyes. “Or keep your tail curled up. Keep your clothes free of ash and soot, never minding that it's  _ everywhere.  _ Oh, and participate in other demon activities that we know you hate, like  _ torturing souls  _ and  _ hurting people.  _ “

He bit out the sentence, lips curling from a pout into a growl. The angel had always heard that a demon's growl was something so terrifying, that it was possibly the last thing you’d hear before your death. But this demon just looked like an upset chihuahua. 

He truly couldn't believe what he was hearing past that, though. 

“...what’s your name.”

The demon looked up at him in shock, lips curling back to normal. Then, after a moment, they curled upwards.

“Hinata Shouyou!”

His wings slowly lowered themselves. There was no longer a shield between him and the demon and whether that was a good or bad thing yet, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that the demon hadn’t attacked yet and he was desperate enough for a way to get his anger out that species was the last of his problems right now.

He stuck out his hand.

“Oikawa Tooru. And I think I’ll take you up on that offer to help.”


End file.
